Affectation Poems | Examples

Bitten Bosom

The closest arm strikes;
It injures with desolation
Instead of solacing:
Broken consolation. 

The treasured lip bites;
It tears to desecration
Instead of kissing:
Shattered affection. 

The chosen heart burns;
It sears to extermination 
Instead of embracing:
Loveless affectation.

during take-off i shouted, 'GODSPEED, JOHN GLENN'

the plane ascended.
i yelled it.

this straw in the wind; fly fly fly
i felt it was a necessary affectation 

to ensure a safer flight
or rather a calmer form of passenger

bring out the java
i want to ride the bean

we soar, slope upward 
i greet the turbulence 

with grit
i summon over a flight-attendant and 

offer to help up there with the pilot
she politely turns down my offer

and the choppiness subsides
but i still want a role

give me valiantness, worthiness, nobility 
and astropolitics 

we thank the crew as we disembark 
i look into the flight attendant's helium-3 eyes

'when men are arrived at the goal, they should
not turn back.'

i was stopped at immigration for four hours

OP-ED Pre-fix : in a Fix

CONTRI and DISTRI
Someone somewhere decided English
needed to be changed.
As usual with our copy-cat world, so dire
an unthinking band wagon has spread as
a forest fire.
An academic,typically verbose, wrote 
'why use one when two' could sound
more up-to-date and new!
Thus the 'double prefix' was conceived 
and sadly like a Topsy grew.
Contri and Distri have wrongly become 
the norm and vernacular pronunciation
overcoming like a desert storm.
English does indeed each day live 
and breathe ...  BUT..
one thought with you I leave..
a double pre-fix cannot be ..
ignorance is not bliss..you see?
 CON & DIS are prefixes to, for example
 English words like TRIBUTE.
however 'Contri and Distri' are not prefixes 
to any known English word, 
they are a 'modern'  'madhatter syllabic nonsense'
 straight out of Lewis's 'Alice in Wonderland'.
Another 'modern affectation'  like the pronunciation
of the letter 'H' as 'haitch' instead of 'aitch'.

Pearls Don'T Shine No More

I am done beseeching,
I am done disrespecting myself.
Grabbing onto twigs while drowning in a well.
Wells don't have no shells.
I am here writhing in pain and you look so well.
 
Your eyes which I thought were pearls,
they don't shine no more,
My heart was like a paper to you,
 which you so easily tore.

You love me so less,
You don't care for me at all.
Yet you want me to answer at your every call.
I so stupidly run in your direction,
Mistaking your affectation for affection.

Then you abandon me with no explanation,
Here I am asking myself hundreds of questions.
Your eyes they are souless,
Your words, they are meaningless.
I am letting you go ,
This wound is going to turn sore .
But I am ready to move ahead,
The coffin's ready it's now time to bury the dead.

Abandoned

ABANDONED

Standing here by the empty dock
Cruise ship sailed, maybe an hour ago
I readily admit that I was a little late 
But I somehow knew it wouldn’t wait
The correct berth the cab didn’t know
And without my stuff, it’s six o’clock

At least I still have some local money
But the local language I do not speak
North African with French affectation
Some pidgin English is an aberration
By late tonight I will feel quite weak
So, finding a hotel won’t be funny

My passport at least shows my name
But here at night I don’t feel too safe
Find a telephone, make a call for aid
But no connecting flights, I’m afraid
I must appear as some helpless waif
At least I’ll make an insurance claim

But no easy solution comes to mind
Maybe hire a boat to the next port
If the cash I have will cover the cost
Without transport I am certainly lost
No card payments, I’d have thought
I’ll wander a bit and see what I find

While it was dark in the early hours
I paid a guy for me to cross the strait
On an overcrowded migrant dinghy
Like the silent rest, I was also clingy
Gibraltar was at least a British state
Not Spanish, and definitely ours

Trousers

Trousers are ashtrays
Traveler's affectation
Embracing the dirt.

My My Having Fun - a Satire

This is my  credo
massage my ego

Hey-the right to be me
with no  morality

Hey-live and let live
don't inhibit me

Hey-listen to me
just let me be

let  me feed my affectation
with contemporary confection

Vogue

VOGUE

en masse
charms
in equal
measure
so
curiously rare

previously
a pleasure
yet
unaware
with
flashes
of
liveliness
stutters
by
bound by
the diverse

so poignant
interlaced
with affectation

such
enlivening
detail
& experemental
forays

a flurry
of the innovative
now
long
forsaken

NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand

Ambiance

ATMOSPHERES
ambient
installation
in
communal cipherss
transitioned
then
transcended
  appropriated
with symbolic
  affectation
of
attitudes
characterised
by
 circles

simple
&positive
yet
marginal

merging
with
modernity
when
flourishing&
profound
 &all around 
is
 decline
of the
premodern
 replacing
the
 rational with
harmonious
 hubris
of
 circular time
in
 mystical
views
so intertwined
 with
     the
 contemporary


NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE   using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.

Goodby To Prometheus

I am cutting ties
that I knotted to a faraway soil.
Exiled no longer at the tiller
of a long beached fishing boat
that bobs only on the legends
of ancient waves.
Those fluent in soul-breathing,
the Celtic poets, 
those wind-chiming lyricists,
are pulling me
to the bottom of Lake Erie
where drowned sea-captains still quote
what the Irish once wrote.
And here’s me, even today
caught by the mouth
from their linguistic fishhooks
yet cutting myself away.
I am a handmade citizen of a land 
that is my own meat and gristle,
a subsoil am I
and my father and mother
the grubbing worm and the turtle dove.
Still Irish, but rootless
with no anchor in Galway Bay.
I have cut the trap lines
become a jobbing teller
of tall tales,
not a keeper of any traditions
planted by hands not of my own.
And if once in a while
I lapse into the sod and bog-speak
of my unlearned brethren
it is no literary affectation
of a better education,
for I remain this common creature
determined to be tied to a smaller rock
of my own choosing.

Poem Noir

Like many, I masqueraded in shades of urban gray.
I offered my love to the midnight neon angel.
I walked the caliginous streets alone and astray.
She remained distant, alluring, always disdainful.

I courted cynicism, resignation, and despair as my style.
I wore tilted fedoras in smoke-filled reeking bars.
I feigned culture and literacy, trying to look worthwhile.
I blush now, recalling my see-through shooting stars.

Like many, I was just a child renting a man’s body.
I impersonated adulthood with stylized gloom.
I thought maturity was an act, so mine was shoddy.
I donned trench coats, my affectation in any room.

My blinking street angel had seen it all before.
My love for her was simulation and nothing more.

Sign of the Times Affectation

Through
the
          looking
               glass
I did
stare
            a surrreal
            scene
I do
declare
               this
                orwellian
wonderland
met                 
my eyes
                  hedonistic
                  affectation
here
and
                    there
                     everywhere
pernicious
correctness
                       in
                       masquerade
posed
equity
                      dressed
                       with
emperor's
clothes
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2013

Into the Abyss My Heart Wanders

I have started to loathe everything about me.
My heart seems pale and dull.
My face seems to lose its colour,
very soon all that will remain will be my bones and skull.

My heart is wandering in the abyss,
the void is deep and killing all the bliss.
My thoughts are becoming dark and deep ,
I find myself on a cliff wondering maybe the solution to all my problems is a long last leap.
I imagine myself walking through meadows,
holding god's hand and telling him all my sorrows.
This worthless feeling pricks and persists,
"END YOURSELF" is what it insists.
My failure seems my own fault,
I will never be that person who is worth one's salt.

My heart is full of regrets,
the smoke of thoughts surrounding me is suffocating me like cigarettes.
I am starting to lose the sense of love,
the line between affection and affectation has started thinning,
the god of death has started grinning.
The abyss is dark and deep,
the loneliness in here has started to creep.
Every step I take here, forces me to weep.

This world is nasty and cruel.
A grave is dug everyday,
take a wrong step and everybody  here is ready with a shovel.

The Great Physician

THE GREAT PHYSICIAN

 the gray sky of a virus, angry
            furrowed brows -
scowling,
     coughing - not laughing.

what affectation the globe hurling
      toward fear.
              illness towering, over
the marketplace, toppling
blocks.

Control harangues, 
                                mocks.

who is really pulling the strings?
the jester jingling his fool’s hat,
           carrion of a mock scepter -
his feet shuffling us back in time
    to the folly of our ways —
“falalalalala,” he sings.

the Great Physician waits for our call

3/2/2020

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as
the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled,
neither let them be afraid.      John 14:27 ESV


But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well
have no need of a physician, but those who are sick.
                                                Matthew 9:12 ESV

Mirror

Hey there I'm talking to you
You're always in silence but keep on imitating me
When I smile you smile with me,when I cry you cry with me
One thing I realized you never judge me
You never criticise me,are you the reflection of me
You are my really competition

I think you're my friend
Even though when I talk to you I get no response
Can I be your best friend

Do you also feel the pain when I do
Do you also carry my problems on your shoulders
Aren't I a burden to you,I think I am
Can i at least hear your voice

You're my true reflection
I know it not an affectation
But its love and affection

I'm looking me through a mirror

• Short Affectation Poems
• Famous Affectation Poems
• Best Affectation Poems
• Read Affectation Poems
• Long Affectation Poems
• Affectation Quotes